


Carry me to heaven, Doctor

by qwertysweetea



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s10e12 The Doctor Falls, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Telepathic Bond, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertysweetea/pseuds/qwertysweetea
Summary: He was near, physically or not she had no way of knowing. It might be the aftermath of his plan rolling over the landscape, he might be right next to her cradling her head on his lap as tears showered down on her. Missy knew which one she hoped for.





	Carry me to heaven, Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Is my denial about Missy's death coming through a little strong?
> 
> Warning: Death and death acceptance.

It was nice to hear nothing for a change. For the first time she could recall, Missy felt herself dissolve in silence. The sound of the forest around her, the gentle humming of the elevators, the maniacal laughter from her counterpart has long since gone.

Yes, she could die here peacefully. About time, really. She’d been flirting with death since her birth; it would be a shame to turn it down now, especially after offering her such a perfect, theatrical end.

No anything: no sound, no sight, no smell. Floating in unconsciousness, utterly weightless, trapped in her mind which for once allowed her a few moments of gentle thought. She might have thought she was dead already is it weren’t for the undeniable press of another mind on hers. _His_ mind.

He was near, physically or not she had no way of knowing. It might be the aftermath of his plan rolling over the landscape, he might be right next to her cradling her head on his lap as tears showered down on her. Missy knew which one she hoped for.

Maybe days had gone by, weeks… maybe those few seconds after her vision had gone dark were stretching into hours. It didn’t matter in the end, because the press was there so he was there in one way or another.

With thoughts lethargic and unavoidable, she felt herself hope that if anything, he was proud of her.

Hope… Doctor. That’s all he was and all he ever had been.

Hope, witness and reward: a triad with him at the centre, and she had stood devoid of it all for him. Of course he was proud of her, and at that moment, in the nothingness waiting for death to strip away those last moments of awareness, that alone made it so much more enjoyable.

“Missy.” It echoed somewhere in the void, distant and harmonious.

“Master.” And again.

“Master.” And again.

“Master.” And again.

“Koschei.”

A collection of voices, all him and all different.

 _Carry me to heaven, Thete_ , she thought with joy and humour.

The air rushed into her lungs.


End file.
